


The Sideshow

by nanjcsy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hell Circus, Horror, Inspired By American Horror Freak Show, Inspired by movie Freaks, M/M, Magic, Multi, Nannerverse, Other, Ramsay is his own warning, Satanic tones, Storytelling, Temptations, games and tricks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 17,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All kids get excited when a carnival comes around. Except not all carnivals are special like this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anticipation

Arya chewed her eraser down to the stub watching the large black and white school clock on the wall. Almost done, almost over and Arya tried hard to make sense of the droning teacher with no luck. Her mind was already gone, already at the carnival. All week she has been sticking the flyer for it in Gendry's face. Sending links about it to her friends, about the sideshow.

Not a single parent is okay with any of them going to see such a thing, of course. So not a single mother or father is willing to drive or fund this trip. The older siblings have all gone and refuse to take the younger kids.

Just because Arya and her friends were sophomores that didn't mean they were too young for a carnival. Luckily, Gendry had stayed back and not only remained Arya's buddy, but owned a driver's license. Of course he was not supposed to drive at night and he is borrowing his uncle's van while the man is away.

Whether Gendry has his uncle's permission he never said and Arya didn't ask. The second the bell rang, Arya ran out of the room, her book bag whacking several others on her way out. Jojen, his sister Meera were just leaving their lockers. "All set?" She asked as Arya shoved her books into her own locker.

Nodding, Jojen watched as Arya's brother Bran rolled up in his wheelchair. "Hey there, all ready for the carnival?" Meera grinned at Bran and then gave him a kiss. "Missed you today. So bored all day waiting for this." The group all headed to the parking lot where they saw Shireen chatting with Hot Pie and Lommy. "Man, I want to see the freaks first!"

Lommy was wired on Red Bull and Hot Pie was already being a braggart. "Okay, so I bet there is nothing there we can see that isn't fake. That we couldn't do ourselves! I mean, I can bite the head off a chicken and call myself a freak, right? Or have fake weights and pretend to be so strong. Or tell fake fortunes for real money!" Snorting, Arya said, "You could try out for the part of fat lady." 

Gendry waved them all over to the beaten up looking van. "I hope I don't get shit from anyone for this, taking you guys to this stupid thing." He complained and lifted Bran into a seat while Meera folded the wheelchair and stuck it inside the van. Arya climbed into the front seat and grinned crazily at Gendry who stared back then laughed. "You are such a freak yourself, Arya, that is why you want to go to this thing!"

He announced and Arya nodded in agreement. With her blue spiked hair, black eyeliner thickly rounding her eyes, Arya looked like a deranged elf. At least that is what Gendry called her and it made Arya gel her spikes up even higher. "Let's go bring the freaks to a freak show!" Yelled Shireen as Gendry started to drive towards the countryside.

 


	2. Preperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sideshow gets ready to start opening.

Ramsay pulled on his shiny tight black boots then checked his outfit. He pulled tighter on the vest with such shiny buttons, everything about him was shiny. The red velvet ringmaster outfit fit perfectly and he added the top hat carefully, then pulled on his gloves. He poured himself a shot of whiskey into the expensive cut glass his father had gifted him with. As he sipped as his drink, Ramsay looked over at the shadowy corner in his trailer.

There sat a black painted box with handles and several large holes. One of the holes had a large grey eye peering out. "It will be an excellent show tonight, little one. You will do well for me, won't you? Of course you will! And how hungry you must be! Don't worry, if you behave and entertain well then you will be well fed." Ramsay patted the box with affection and then opened the latch to allow the thin, shaking creature to crawl out.

Wrinkling his nose, Ramsay glared with disgust at the cringing freak. "Did you soil yourself again? It was only six hours, have you no control at all? Disgusting, revolting creature! Clean that up right now or I am going to beat you until you can't scream anymore. Hurry up!" Whimpering and whining, the shaking thin limbs pulled themselves into a crawl.

The creature got a rag from under the tiny sink and began to scrub the box and itself. "Now, I hope you can at least behave long enough to make us some money or else you'll regret it later tonight." The loathsome thing hurried to kiss the shiny boots and whimpered out, "Yes Master. Good Reek. Good freak." Ramsay walked outside with his creature scuttling, hunched over behind him. He nodded to Gregor, who was setting up his gear for his strongman show. Ros and Kyra were busy trying to repair a ripped curtain while Petyr was arguing with Varys.

"A magician and a medium having a fight, that must be interesting, too bad we don't have time for it." Ramsay commented as he walked by. He ignored the dirty looks thrown his way by the two older men and continued towards his father's trailer. Walda, with all her enormous weight was coming out of his father's trailer and Ramsay hid his urge to vomit. How his father can court that sickeningly huge woman with silly banana curls in her thin hair and her frilly pink dresses and her quadruple chins.

Reek curled up under Roose's trailer to wait as Ramsay went inside. "We are all ready to open, Father."


	3. Dusk

Rickon barely heard the swears and screeching of brakes as he rode his bike at suicidal speed through the city. Sweat stung his eyes and his mouth was dry enough for rattlesnakes to have moved in along with some scrub-brush. His limbs ached and he hasn't had to pee this bad since he was little and was afraid a monster lived in the toilet. Nevertheless, he did not stop pedaling until he reached the dirt roads of farmland. Only then did he stagger off and drown an entire ant hill while chugging water.

He stared at the third sign he has seen today about the Carnival and Freak Show. Everyone else has been to it in his family. Well, at least almost all, Arya and Bran were going tonight, then it would be only Rickon who hasn't seen it. Hell, Shireen was only one year older and she was getting to go. Had Rickon known a week ago that this carnival was coming to town, he wouldn't have played that prank on Bran. How was he to know that by a simple switching of a wire that Bran's science project would catch fire like that? So his mother banned him from going out for a month to anywhere but school and the library. As if anyone goes to the library on purpose?

It was killing him not to be the one to stroll into his seventh grade class and not have excellent details. Of a place none of them were allowed near. Rickon saw no way around it until two hours ago. His cousin Robin called and said that his mother had an accident. Both his parents left to go help her and told the older kids to keep an eye on Rickon till they returned. He went to his room, climbed down the tree and was free. Another few miles and he could hear the calliope music.

"Its too early to visit the freak show, we should wait until night for it. Let's do some rides and play games first!" Yelled Gendry over a group of screeching teens flying by on a track. So they ate cotton candy and got sticky, they rode rides until they were dizzy and had the best time. Bran and Meera made out on the Ferris wheel, they all rode bumper cars like they were from Mad Max. Lommy and Gendry lost almost all their money on games, Shireen and Arya claiming all their cheap bounty from it. Hot Pie cried and puked on the roller coaster and Arya offered him her hot dog, laughing.

The little clown waddled side to side and grinned, cavorting. Teens sneered and little kids giggled while adults look on uneasily. Poisoned candy for the little ones, LSD laced drinks for the teenagers and a bullet between the eyes for the wretches who bred them, thinks the dwarf and he bows and scrapes, jiggling merrily. To his delight, he sees Skinner open the little gate to the freak show portion of the carnival. With a sly giggle, the clown runs to enter the gate. "Ah, Skinner! I was afraid I would lose it and pull an eye out of one of those little brats, make someone eat it. Now, let me get ready for my second act!"

Laughing, Skinner pulls his cloak more firmly about his outfit and goes behind the newly repaired curtain. 


	4. Freaks

Ramsay walked up and down the makeshift stage barking out, enticing customers. Sitting in a high old fashioned baby chair was the clown. He was dressed like a baby now but smoking a cigar and selling tickets.

Many a female came closer not because of interest in the show but to stare at Ramsay. There was something about him, he was handsome in a way they couldn't describe. His red and pink velvet outfit  should look silly, yet it doesn't. It fits him in some way that made the women horny and uneasy all at once.  His eyes were so intense and seemed to look through them and they would shiver. Moving ever closer as he beckoned.

The males that weren't gay had no problem ignoring Ramsay. They were more interested in taking pictures of the midget baby. The fact that the dwarf was foul mouthed and insulting in a humorous way kept the tickets and cash flowing. Gendry and Bran tried to get the girls to keep moving while Hot Pie was being roundly insulted by the clown ticket-master.

They managed to finally all get inside and toured the small hall that lead to a stage and benches. Dead animals with deformities as well as a few stillborn humans were set up in glass jars on tables. A cast of a mermaid, a few skulls and some shrunken heads were not all that impressive. At least that is what Lommy said, yawning as they sat on the front bench.

The curtain opened and music swelled forth. It was old timey and strange. A tremendously overweight woman came onto the stage wearing a baby doll pink frilly dress and Shirley Temple hair. In a wobbling soprano she sang, while twirling the parasol. She ignored the horrified looks of all and the mean heckling of some. A few folks did leave during the fat woman's performance and Gendry whispered he wanted to be one of them. "If it all sucks like this, I am leaving." He announced but then the music ended and the woman was obscured by the closing curtain.

Every woman cheered when out from behind the curtain, came the Ringmaster. Smiling with brilliant dark charm, the man spoke to them all. "Well, that was the end of our more traditional acts." Leaning forward as if to impart a delicious secret, causing all to lean closer themselves, Ramsay confessed, "We use her to make those too cowardly to leave. If they cannot stand the discomfort of watching our beloved Fat Walda, then they will faint during our next act. This act is also a long traditional thing of freak shows. A real honest to goodness freak."

Ramsay indicated to a small cage being wheeled out by a masked man in all leather. After the man unlocked the box, he left. He came back on more time with a large basket that he handed to the Ringmaster. "Now, my poor little freak hasn't had much to eat today. He is quite hungry and as rude as it is, I hope you don't mind if I feed him." The lid opened and slowly a terribly thin and scarred creature crawled from the box. Cries of disgust and fear came from the audience as the freakish thing began to crawl closer to Ramsay.

Arya leaned forward as Gendry complained he would puke soon, looking carefully. It was clearly a man, his whole body was skin and bones. The skin was cut over and over into a word. "His name is Reek." Announced Ramsay and Meera gasped. "Oh, its written all over his skin, gross." From the basket, Ramsay brought out a live rat. Tossing it forward, Ramsay smiled and called, "Go on, Reek! It is suppertime!"

The creature snatched the rat out of the air and bit it's head off. Then he noisily bit into the thing, eating the pink guts of it. There was retching in the crowd and a few ran out, heaving. Hot Pie and Jojen ran out, gagging. The others stayed and watched as the freakish Reek did the same to a chicken, a rabbit and a snake. Claiming not to wish to overfeed the creature, no one was sad to see Ramsay put the freak back in the box. It's eye stared unblinking at the audience as the same leather masked man carried the box away.

"And now, I must give this stage over to the talents of others. Those who wish to startle, dazzle, charm, fool and terrify you. Some may simply wish to make you stare in amazement. Please, welcome to the stage, Damon Dance for Me and Ros!" 


	5. Dazzle

The devilish Ringmaster was watched until the females saw Damon come onstage. Then all eyes were on this new Adonis. He was tall, muscular, blonde hair and handsome in a boyish way. His wide smile seemed to warm every female there and even Meera crossed her legs, leering. His outfit was a cross between Indiana Jones and the Beast-Master. No matter, the pants were tight, so tight and the chest and arms were nearly bare. Pink, muscled, oiled flesh next to tight leather and of all things he had whips on his thick belt. 

Bran could barely take offense at his girlfriend lusting after the man. Considering he was ogling the woman along with every other man. Ros was legs that never ended in ripped fishnet stockings, a tiny ruffled skirt and a corset that spilled amazing amounts of cleavage. Her messy red hair just piled into a bun, a small Victorian style hat cockily on her head. Hot Pie was actually drooling and it wasn't over food for once. The couple had the full attention of the audience and knew it.

They watched as Ros sashayed across the stage to set up things for Damon. He cracked his whip around him several times while it was on fire. Then another whip and he began to whip out flames from candles that Ros held. Daintily, Ros held a lit firecracker in her mouth and Damon cracked it out just in time. Then more music but unlike before, this was dark, it was heavy and sexual. Ros stands with her arms and legs straight out while Damon ties very small bells to her outfit. He even ties several around her arms and legs plus a few on her hat.

While the music pounds, Ros begins to dance, it was leaping, grinding, weaving and everyone was breathless. In time with the bass, the whip begins to crack as Damon joins this dance. The whip whirled and snapped, catching Ros in the center of it. When the dance ended, every single bell has been removed from her and Ros was not once hit. The audience exploded in relief and admiration as the two took their bows and left the stage. 

Ramsay came back up and did a small dance, rolling his hat about his shoulders, making the rowdier girls catcall at him. He grinned at them playfully and said, "Oh, I am glad you have warmed to me again. All the girls want to dance with Damon, but some of you might still wish to see me, eh?" They all laughed at Ramsay's downtrodden expression and he winked. "This next man makes ME look like a God, but he will make you tremble at his devilish tricks. And men, do not attempt to get too close to his lovely assistant, not if you value your lives. She is quite proficient at her talents too. Please meet Skinner and Kyra!"

 

 


	6. Sharp

Skinner was almost as thin as the freak earlier. He was twice as tall as Damon was and he was wearing a black suit with white pinstripes that was ripped straight out of the days of gangsters and prohibition. He had on a hat that nearly engulfed his head, his cadaverous face grinned like a skeleton.

The man kissed the hand of the short, plump and well endowed woman next to him. She gave an over-exaggerated shiver to the audience then giggled. Dressed like a flapper, the girl was not as pretty as Ros, but she was more entertaining with her facial expressions. And her talents once they came forth.

She was put on a spinning wheel that Skinner spun while throwing blades at her. Then she held a rose in her teeth that Skinner managed to cut in half with another thrown knife. After that the two seemed to pretend a disagreement and start a sword fight with each other. Kyra managed to slice off Skinner's jacket and he sliced off her garters. Then Kyra took the swords and swallowed them both, one, then the other.

Skinner took the swords afterwards and managed to use on to spear an apple on Kyra's head. The other one Kyra took and then she put Skinner against a board. Grinning at the audience, she offers the audience to decide if Skinner should wear an apple or a banana. The screaming begins and so Kyra puts the banana right between his legs then throws the sword. The fruit is cleaved in half, Skinner stands straight, then pretends to faint. They bow and the audience is pounding hands together for more, more, something more.

So here comes Ramsay again, ready to feed the insatiable crowd some more, gluttons they are. He teases them with his voice, promising so much more, darker, more exciting things and they all lean forward. "I want to introduce you to the strongest man I know. His name is Gregor and you will be amazed at his feats! And then understand that some very creepy, very dark things are coming after Gregor The Strongman!"

Thudding upon the stage, mouths dropped at the giant. No one has ever seen a man so large, so tall, so muscled. He made the stage creak when he moved and his bald head only made him more fearsome. He ripped chains apart, he lifted a small car, did the usual feats expected to see of a strong man.

Then with a snap of his fingers, Gregor was joined on stage by the other acts they had seen. He asked Damon and Skinner to put their partners on their shoulders. Once the ladies were settled up on their partners, Gregor had the two men climb three steps to a table and stand on it. Gregor lifted up the whole table with both hands, which then became one.

Ramsay came out and yelled to the audience, "Oh, don't twitch or blink now, don't get restless, we have the next acts coming! A Magician and a Mentalist to meet you all and maybe they will blow your minds or make all your good sense disappear. The moon is full, it is dark out now and here we all our in this tent together, so cozy. A perfect time for us to all give away our good sense, our morals, our normal thoughts mean nothing here. So let me give you our next act, Petyr The Great and his assistant Lancel!"


	7. Impossible

Petyr the Great was certainly the center of attention, he commanded it somehow. He wore a traditional magicians outfit from the forties, maybe fifties. His voice was amazing to all of them, it was a soft hiss and yet it reached every ear. It seemed to come from beside, from behind and in front of each of them. Then he dazzled them with steel rings, with stepping into thin air and reappearing.

By now Hot Pie and Jojen have returned, pale but resolute to finish the show. Petyr had their full attention instantly by his next trick. He took off his hat and set it on a small metal table, sliding his foot underneath to show nothing hidden there. The magician reached into his hat as Hot Pie leaned over to Gendry to whisper loudly, "It's gonna be a rabbit." With a collective gasp, the audience watched as the man somehow pulled a teenage boy out of the silk top hat.

He was slender and feminine with long silky blonde hair and bee stung lips. The boy gracefully bowed to the audience. Wearing a blue bodysuit with silver glitter moons and stars the boy pranced across the stage. The magician took his wand and tapped the boy on the elbow and with a whimper, he was gone. In his place was a rabbit, sniffing about the floor. Another flourish of the wand and the boy was back. "Please give a hand for my assistant, Lancel!" Everyone applauded and whispered of how he ever did such a trick.

When the curtain closed and Ramsay came back, he was less exuberant. His face was somber, his eyes intense and his voice softer. He seemed to stalk them all as he spoke, pinning each person with those sharp, cutting orbs. "Are you not amazed? Wasn't it just...fantastical? Do I sense a little fear? Are any of you ready to run yet? Because this is your last chance before we truly reveal your true selves. Before my next act comes to peel your minds back like the layers of an onion. No runners? My, we are a brave group. All right then do not say you were not warned when you leave shaking or weeping. Please, welcome to the stage, Varys, The Master of Whispers. A mentalist? A psychic? A medium? A con artist? I will let you decide for yourselves!"

Rickon looked through the chain-link fence at the lights in the distance. Not that far now, if he went on foot he'll be there in thirty minutes or so. Having no money, Rickon brought the next best thing, a pair of bolt cutters. He cut through the fence and headed for the carnival, planning to enter from the back of the trailers.

A pale pudgy bald man swept onto the stage. He wore yellow pattern silk robes and large glittering rings. His movements and looks would be considered feminine, except there was something very sexless about him. From the moment his soft, cultured voice began to speak almost lyrically, everyone was enchanted. Or at least almost all of them were.

Jojen wasn't, he was staring at the man with steely eyes and a frown. Varys proceeded to tell audience members things he shouldn't know. He told of dead relatives with messages from beyond. Two startled customers were told where to check for important things that they have lost. Jojen snorted with disgust so loudly that Hot Pie nudged him sharply. After the man had filled them all with either unease or joy, he left the stage to stunned applause.

Ramsay came back to tell them that all the acts they have seen tonight will be outdoors, doing smaller demonstrations. That he hoped they enjoyed themselves and will encourage others to seek out the same wonders. They all exited the tent with intentions to seek out their favorite acts for pictures. Jojen was heading for the charlatan and he was pissed.


	8. Bully

Shireen had loved the whole thing, even more than Arya probably. She was in such a rush to go meet that cute man with the whip, that she wasn't paying attention. It had escaped her notice for once that her carefully styled hair was no longer in front of the right side of her face. And that her hoodie had fallen back, exposing the scars. "Hey, girl! Ain't you suppose to be with the other freaks?" Some redneck hollered at her while his friends laughed.

"Hey, boy! Can you tell your mother I'll be over after I finish my shift tonight! I can't wait to fuck her again, had no idea she was so kinky!" Shireen turned to see the small clown grinning a the farm hicks. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, ASSHOLE!" The embarrassed young man yelled then stomped forwards, fists at the ready.

"Oh, have I upset you? Didn't you know that after her big boy got too old to pull into bed for some action, she had to turn to little men?" Now the guy bellowed in rage and began to chase the dwarf. The clown ran until he stood next to Gregor the strong man, who raised an eyebrow at the rednecks.

The rednecks yelled insults for a moment but when Gregor took one step forward, they bolted. "Thank you, Gregor. Very kind of you." Snorting, the giant walked away towards some eager to get their picture next to someone his size. Shireen had fixed her hair and hood, but she waited till the dwarf came by to thank him.

"Thank you for that. I am used to idiots like that though. If I ignore them, they usually will get bored and go away." "If that what you tell yourself to make it feel better, then who am I to change it? Though, if you choose it, before you leave tonight, come find me again. I have a story I would share with you that might help even more." Shireen watched as the clown cavorted away then disappeared into the crowd.   

 

 

 


	9. Challenge

Jojen was pale as a ghost but full of righteous fire that warmed him and blazed out his eyes. With fists that were hard to relax, he stormed towards the charlatan. Two others were speaking with Varys, utterly hooked and charmed. He used that time to compose himself, to wipe away the sweat and calm his breathing. By the time the ladies left, Jojen was ice, he was chilly, he was good. No problem, no sweat, he was calm and then his hands slammed on the table. Leaning close enough to smell the powder on the repulsive man, Jojen spoke softly. "You are a lowlife scum. You are a liar, a hoax, someone who preys on others. That man right over there, he was in the line. Talking as if he were a customer, talking and getting information. Then he feeds it to you." Raising an eyebrow, not at all offended, merely amused, Varys gave a small smirk. "Oh? Okay, I shall prove to you that I am not a charlatan."

Arya and Meera were shameless and they didn't care a bit. They leered and drooled at Damon who flexed muscles and used a whip. "This must be how it feels at a strip club." Whispered Meera and Arya replied, "Bran must be disgusted with us." Meera watched Damon use the whip in such a way that she gasped and muttered, "Bran who?" After a bit, they did switch and watch Skinner and Kyra. Skinner was a creepy looking dude, but he was impressive with his knives. Both thought Kyra was not as pretty as Ros but she was kick ass. Swallowing swords, sword fighting, juggling blades with Skinner. They were suitably impressed. Soon Arya wandered back over to drool over Damon. Strangely enough, Arya had more interest in Ros soon. She was so sensual, something that Arya could never be. The woman was so perfectly graceful and worse, she showed other talents! The redhead began to stroll around customers then would present them with their own items. Ros chuckled with a deep sound that Arya wanted.  Meera stayed and watched Skinner carefully as her own hands twitched. She watched Kyra with something like jealousy.

Rickon stepped carefully over thick cables and then began to dart through a maze of paths between trailers. He found himself staring at a very thick black tent that just went on until a damned fence.  Sighing, Rickon found a spot that was easy enough to work with. He took out his pocketknife that Arya has been missing and cut a small way inside. Shimmying in, it was cold and pitch dark. Just as his feet came through the hole, Rickon's head smacked into a barrier. After determining his head wasn't split open, Rickon sat and let his eyes adjust in the extreme gloom. His brain finally started to work again and reminded him that he brought his cell phone. Duh. Taking his cell out, Rickon turned on the light and began to walk past the stage that tried to give him brain damage. He headed into a little hallway and began to look at the creepy shit in the jars. Ignoring the growing headache, Rickon looked closely at the floating Siamese twins.

 


	10. Bait

Bran watched Petyr and Lancel juggle balls that simply one by one disappeared into the air never to return. Narrowing his eyes, he watched all their little tricks like a hawk, never once catching the tell. "A fan of magic or have you attempted it?" Petyr asked once he saw that others came and went but Bran never moved. "When I was younger I had a go at it. Wasn't very good though." With a cruel smile Lancel sneered, "Let me guess. You practiced magic tricks until you couldn't walk anymore. Then gave up on it."

Clucking his tongue, Petyr grasped Lancel's shoulder and chastised, "Very rude boy tonight, aren't you?" His other hand with the wand touched the boy and he was gone. A squawking falcon was there instead, hopping then flying around Petyr's head. "He won't get very far, his wings are clipped. But if he wishes to be rude, then he can be a quiet bird." Bran stared and stammered, "How? How could you do that? These are truly the best tricks I have ever seen!"

With a sullen screech the falcon sat on Petyr's prop trunk and promptly shit all over it. "Brat." Petyr commented mildly, but there was a warning in his eyes that made the bird fly into a tree, out of reach. Almost as if it were truly the boy changed and Bran felt a strange shiver go through him. "Now, is that true, young man? Did you really abandon magic simply because your legs no longer worked?"

Ramsay unlocked the box and grinned down. "Oh, you did so well earlier! No, no food yet. Didn't that fill you a little earlier? Gluttony, its a sin, Reek. Later I will feed you some real stew, I bought your favorite can of it at a grocery store earlier for you. Yes, if you behave tonight out front, you will eat a full bowl of it."

As Ramsay spoke the creature crawled out of the box. He waited while his water dish was filled then he went and lapped at it. "Now, I know you hate this part, the display, but try to be good, won't you? No curling into the back corner and hiding, let them see you. I will protect you from anyone hurting you, you know that."

Reek nodded, cringing already hearing the rough voices and things thrown at him. Someone always throws shit and demands he eat it. That is when Ramsay will finally intervene unless someone tries to "rescue" or touch him.  Reek knows his Master hates that and will have the person thrown out if it happens. He hates this part more than the stage because folks are so close to him. They can hurt him with their words, their pictures taken of him slices deep inside of him.

But he obeys, he is good Reek, a good freak and tonight might be the night it ends. Each show there is a chance, always a chance. And tonight Reek knows Ramsay is worried. Because earlier Varys told them that it was a good night for it. Reek has never yet been given the chance, but maybe tonight. If not, at least there would be stew. So he follows Ramsay and gets into the large straw filled pen that is set up next to Ramsay's little stage. The folks come to laugh, sneer and taunt while taking selfies with the freak in the cage. 


	11. Caught

They were nose to nose, both pale but only Jojen was sweating. Only he was red hot with rage and was sneering, trembling. Varys was smiling gently, his eyes filled with a sort of cold sympathy. He spoke almost in a whisper.

"You hate clairvoyants, you cannot even stand anything to do with the supernatural at all. When your pals made you watch The Exorcist movie you were sick for three days over it. Because you are a clairvoyant yourself. Except you never see good things do you? Those terrible messages that come in dreams, always showing you the worst. Never enough information to prevent things, just to know they are coming. Three pets died days after you saw them already stiffened. Your own mother...that had to be the worst. And you dreamed about me, didn't you? You saw the fair, you saw that bad things will happen tonight and here you are. And you honestly can't believe you will prevent anything this late? When you never have managed to have prevented anything before? Oh, child. Sweet little boy, it is already too late."

Shireen wandered about for a bit then went to smoke a joint with Lommy and Hot Pie. "I am over the freak show stuff. Let's go on the rides for a bit. The place is only open for another hour or two." Suggested Lommy and Hot Pie agreed with him. They dragged Shireen with them and she had to admit, the roller coaster rocked when stoned. All the lights made it more magical then ever and after awhile, Shireen found herself heading towards the almost deserted looking freak show section again. Hot Pie and Lommy never even noticed her wander off, they were going to smoke more behind the rides where it was dark and not noticeable.

"Are you threatening me? Threatening my friends?" Growled out Jojen, ignoring his rising nausea. With a little laugh, Varys leaned back in his chair and raised his hands, palms out. "Me? No. I am not threatening you, Jojen. You asked me to prove I am a medium. I just did. You are going to be sick and I would really rather you didn't throw up here." Suddenly, Jojen leaped up but it was too late and Varys made a moue of disgust as the boy threw up carnival food into the grass.

The clown was dressed in a pair of feetie pajamas now, wearing a strange belled nightcap. He rang a large bell and was dancing around the lingering folks. "We freaks must get some sleep! Be kind and tell your friends of us! Now get the fuck out!" Shireen laughed at the rude, shocked looks and watched as the little clown insulted and cajoled to get folks to leave. He saw her and grinned. "Decided to come back after all. Are you sure you want to hear my story, girlie? It will keep you up late, wouldn't want to worry your folks."

Snorting, Shireen shoved her head further into her hoodie. "My parents don't care the least as long as they don't have to deal with me." Nodding understandingly, the clown adds, "Daddy cares about work, mommy cares about appearances, right? Been there, done that. Well, these last few can find the way out by themselves, I guess." Grabbing the girl's hand, the clown walks into one of the tiny trailers. "You have a choice of drinks from this sophisticated clown, Red Bull or vodka. Or both. I suggest both. You aren't old enough to drive, are you?" Shireen shook her head staring around the luxurious decorated small space and he nodded. "Good. Then you are deemed safe enough to drink. My name is Tyrion, you are Shireen and we are drinking together. Just two freaks and a wonderful story to go with it."

Jojen looked up, feeling so sick to say, "I will stop whatever this is. I will. Or die trying." Varys sighed as he called for Alyn to come clean up the mess. "Why don't you go home, boy? Just go to your house and go to bed, go to sleep? It won't change the fates of course, but at least when you die, it won't be here among strangers. You can have your father embrace you at your last shuddering breaths." "I won't leave my sister. Or my friends." "Then you won't ever be leaving at all. Hear that annoying clanging bell? That is letting you know its your last chance. Leave before those freak show gates shut and it is too late. I am being kind offering you the chance to go, you should take me up on it." And both knew it wasn't going to happen. 


	12. Closed

Meara isn't quite sure how she got on the little platform. Not really, it felt dreamlike to her. Kyra's hands were plump and soft but firm. Skinner's hands felt like bones moving across her but it didn't really bother her. "Have you always had an interest in blades, swords? Would you like to learn? Here, stand like this, now put this in our hand. How does it feel?" Skinner's whispered words swirled around Meara's head. It felt wonderful, it felt natural almost. "It feels good, like it belongs there." She whispered, staring down at the silver throwing knife. 

"So young and pretty, you would be a natural, I bet." Kyra said as she helped Meara position for a toss. "Now, try to hit the center target." Meara tossed the knife and it was close to where the target was. Kyra seemed to tense slightly but she grinned at the girl. Skinner stroked Kyra's back and murmured, "Don't worry, we have hours left, it just began. Besides, it took you a bit to learn, remember? Tonight is ours, darling. It could be either one of us, you know. Let's stay calm and keep on our toes, shall we?" Meara didn't care about their chatting, she was already picking up another knife to try again. She wasn't sure why she wanted to hit that target so badly, but she did.

Arya ignored the pull she felt towards the handsome Damon and intriguing Ros. A small feeling was telling her she needed to head out. Wrangle the others up and call it a night. She didn't know how or why but this instinct in her was always right. Something was wrong or about to go wrong and they needed to split. To get the fuck out of town. To make like a bird and fly.

But it didn't look like that was about to happen. Hot Pie and Lommy were nowhere to be seen. Shireen wasn't around anywhere either. Arya saw Meara up on the platform with Skinner and Kyra. Feeling a stab of sympathy for the girl, she decided to get her last. Meara was always busy worrying and caring for both her own sickly brother and Bran. She deserved a bit of time to herself for once.

Bran was with the magician and they seemed to be having an intense discussion of some sort. Just as Arya was about to call to him, she saw Jojen. He was laying on the ground nearby, covered in puke. There was that creepy medium leaning over him with a look of disgust on his face. She ran over and knelt beside the pale, sick boy. "Oh no, what happened? I am going to call you an ambulance, Jojen. I think you are worse, you need a doctor. I know all our parents will kill us, but you really have to see a hospital." She held him and tried to dig her cell phone out of her pocket.

Then Varys was standing straight again and gave a tiny titter. "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude. But I am waiting for the look." Arya and Jojen looked at him briefly not understanding. Then Arya yelled, "Fuck! I have no service. In fact it just died." "There it is. Of course the phone won't work anymore. Didn't you hear the clown ring the bell for everyone to leave? Didn't you hear the announcement of the gate closing? Of the freak show closing for the night? It is too late. You are on the wrong side of the gate. Phones don't work here."


	13. Box

"Oh Reek, it is sad, it was not you. Again. I don't know why you are sobbing, you know its never going to be you. Now if you calm yourself down and rest, I will go make your stew." Ramsay gestured to the box and Reek climbed in obediently. He was grateful that he was getting a hot meal and that was not beaten or flayed tonight. That Ramsay was in a very good mood and that was all that mattered. Cuddling into his own limbs for warmth, Reek waited. He waited for Ramsay to return with steaming hot soft food and then he can hope that Ramsay might wish to let him sleep with him in the warm trailer. Not in this freezing cold dark with only jarred fetuses for bed mates.

Then he heard the shifting and slinking. Wild with hope, his eye glued to the largest hole. "Hey, hey I saw him put you in there. Are you okay? I mean, can you breathe? Do you want out of there, he must be a bully to lock you in like that. I hate bullies, we have them at my school." For a second, Reek couldn't move or speak at all. Then, it a voice full of sweet relief and terror of being tricked, he replied. "Oh yes, please! Please unlatch the box and let me out."

 

Ramsay had started to grab the can opener and pry open Reek's stew, when he felt it. "No!" The can hit the floor and sprayed horrid smelling cold mess. Ripping his door open, Ramsay ran down the steps, he had to stop it, he has before just in time. But this time, he was too late, the gate was shut, his father already standing on his little porch. "Father, please....there is still time, right?"

Ramsay pleaded but his father's face remained stern. "No. I know you have managed in the past to tweak things, I am not ever pleased by it. This time I have caught you in time, you will not cheat tonight. I do not care if you have attached yourself to the creature, you knew the day would come. Same as it has before, you got over it then and will this time."

Rickon stared at the huge eye and then unlatched the top of the box.


	14. Defiance

Arya snared up at Varys and then nearly dragged Jojen towards the gate. Sighing, Varys followed them at a distance so they wouldn't feel threatened . It was unfair really. There was Petyr with his chance, or maybe Lancel's chance and Varys finally after so long gets one. And the boy is too weak, too sick and too hostile for him to win. It could be so very long before Varys gets another opportunity, so even though he knows it is useless, he still thinks to try. The boy is dying, yes, but he is not dead yet and the night is still young enough.

Laying Jojen down in front of the gates, Arya tried to open it and she gasps in confusion. She cannot seem to grip or even really hold the gate. It is there, according to her eyes, it was solid and there. But Arya only feels a cold steel caress then it all seems to be smoky air that she cannot hold or pass through. "Fuck, fuck what is this?" She screeches in desperation and turns to see Varys a few feet away. "Why is this happening? Let us out of here!"

Shrugging, Varys stopped and gave a tiny smile. "I told you that once the gate shuts you cannot leave. Until it is dawn and our scout comes back for the ones who get to leave. He will take them to new places to start the last of their lives there. Then he will go off to search out another group to bring to us. He only finds a perfect group on rare occasion, sometimes he has to go very far away for it. Then we must wait until we can make it close enough to where he has installed himself. Usually as a high school student. I think you knew him as Gendry. This is not part of your world, my dear. This is Roose Bolton's Freak Show and we sometimes have a little chance for magic to happen. For our beloved Father's gift to us. A chance to break our contracts, whenever his traveler finds a group of enough sensitive, desperate people, like we were once. He brings them in and then we get our chance to be free. But we must play by HIS rules and they are very strict. We cannot simply force our fates upon the person. We must lure them, trick them, or persuade them to our lives. If they agree to it, we are free, they are not."

Jojen and Arya stared at the bald man in horror. "What the hell..is he crazy?" Jojen muttered and Arya stammered, "But Jojen...the gate..I can't grab it..like it's smoke. That is magic, dude. Okay, so what if we don't agree to it. What if we say no, do we get to leave then?" Varys sighed and shook his head. Delicately, the man fixed his gold wide cuff as he spoke. "Sadly, no. If you do not switch with someone then you are sacrificed. And the main killers are Ramsay, Gregor, Alyn, Skinner and Damon. Tonight Skinner and Damon have a chance for the gift but that still isn't much mercy.  It is a very long slow night for the victim, I can assure you. The rest of us have to hear those screams in our nightmares. Due to our traveling nature, the men here do not have much chance for relationships. They get rather excited when a victim is available."

Varys gave a pout of distaste and shivered lightly. "Ugh, barbarians. I hate them truly. However, that is what your fates will be if you don't take the chance. It is wonderful actually. It is just very long and eventually you start to hope for your chance just to see something for longer than three days. To decide not to be a performer for a day or two. To do something, anything else for just a few moments. And then the chance comes and you pass it along to another. Arya, I believe Ros and Damon interest you, don't they? If you are a very smart girl, you will go to watch them. Maybe hear a story or two and try out their little stage. I can take care of Jojen. I can allow him a way to live longer, to leave the sickness outside the gate."

Arya thought impulsively of the giant handsome man and how that whip excited her. Of how she longs to be like Ros just for a moment or two. She found herself taking a few steps towards the couple down the pathway and then shook her head. "No, don't fight it, darling. Just let your feet take you to where your head will want to be. Go on, sweetheart, no need to be afraid of it. Nothing about the switch hurts, I swear it."

Oh, fuck you and fuck Gendry too! Arya snarled but her feet kept taking small steps forward and she stopped snarling to moan out the word no. Another step then a voice cut through her foggy mind like a shining silver blade and she was able to stop herself. Her body leaned forward and then the voice came again. Turning her head, Arya saw the ringmaster from earlier. He was wearing the tight trousers and boots still, as well as the jacket whcih was undone. His shirt was missing, his hair was messy and his hat was crooked. Leaning against a tree, Ramsay drank from a vodka bottle. His eyes were red rimmed and were desperate and wild.

"Go to Damon, you will really like him. Don't worry about your brother Rickon. The youngest in your family. He is here too, Arya and in extreme danger. You could go to Damon or you can save your brother. You see, we have a common interest here. Your fucking brother is messing with my pet Reek. If he listens to the pitiful tale, if Reek coaxes him, your brother will become my new freak. I cannot stop it, I am not allowed to. But you can...and Varys forgot to mention something, the fucking sneaky eunuch. Are all eunuchs that way, Varys? Anyway, if you manage to escape or elude your hunters after refusing the switch, you ARE allowed to leave. When the gate opens at dawn, anyone who has switched or managed to not die during the night can leave. Father made the rules and they are never to be broken. So take a chance, girl. Go save your brother and then run for your lives. Find a very good hiding spot and stay there until dawn. Hurry before your feet decide for you and then your Rickon becomes my new Reek."

Roose walked over to Gregor who was drinking beer and listening to his radio. "I do not trust my son tonight. See that no one interrupts the creature and his chance for the gift. Of anyone here, that creature deserves it the most. There will be no cheating tonight." Nodding, Gregor stood up and stretched. He lumbered off to stand in front of the Jar Babies Hall as he thinks of it. Crossing his arms, Gregor refused to allow himself to be upset that he wasn't offered the gift. There is a glimmer of hope though, not for the gift but for some violence, some fun. It was sad to not be chosen but that means you can have the hunting and raping and tearing apart of these arrogant fucks who dare to refuse such a gift of immortality. So Gregor stood at watch, fantasizing about when Alyn will come announcing hunting time. Maybe someone will dare to try and get past Gregor for their friend. He hopes so, he really does. It is rare to get a victim to yourself and Gregor feels that would be enough of a gift for him tonight. 


	15. Clown

Shireen had never felt better after the second drink. Tyrion has washed his face, now he was truly Tryion, that was his name. The trailer looked homey now, it looked very safe. Everything was so shiny it became fuzzy around the edges but Shireen wasn't worried. Here was the real person behind the clown. He was actually handsome for a dwarf and his voice was so rich and now he spoke so differently. He sounded English, old English in a way. Drinking merrily along with Shireen, Tyrion told his story.

"I shall make this as simple as I can, sparing us both the pain. There was once a very rich, very powerful family. They ruled, they battled, conquered and ruled more. They had a golden perfect son. Then they had a golden perfect daughter. Then they had a monster that killed its mother during birth. The father and sister could never forgive it. The monster had a sort of protector in his older brother. He was given the most beatings, nearly never allowed to attend any banquets or meetings. I was hidden away so I learned, I read books, read scrolls and sought out tutors. I learned how to cheat, steal and debate as well. I became very good at it. I ended up hiring bodyguards to beat my bullies, including my fucking sister." The dwarf seemed a mixture of sad and angry, Shireen whimpered a little and Tyrion calmed down.

"Sorry about that. Even the distant past can hurt unexpectedly. But it is a story that must be told, how else could I ever heal from it? Getting free from my past is a work in progress. Back to my story, here, have another drink. There, good. So I grew and I learned and I gained some power. Not much, it was mainly father allowing me to run a sewage system but it was something. I was treated as a man there, they did as I told them and I had some respect. It was glorious and then...it all went to hell." Tyrion took another swig and cleared his throat before stammering the next sentence. 

"I thought I was in love..I thought a girl really liked me, loved me. I married her, it was fast, I told no one. But father found out of course and he had done a...search on my beloved new wife. It turned out that she was..a con artist and prostitute. She had been secretly funneling my money from one of my accounts the whole time. Father showed it to me and he smirked at my shame. When I went home to confront her, I discovered some of father's..men had come in and...she was just laying there. So much money in her hands, falling to the floor. One after the other and there was so much money. I should have done something, anything and I couldn't...I ran. Weeping like the sad pathetic fucking creature that I was, I ran away with only what I could carry." Tyrion was crying now and strangely so was Shireen.

"Then in the pouring rain, I saw it. Torchlight and some other kinds of fairy lights dancing about. I followed that light, it seemed so far away and so close at the same time. It was the fair, it was here and I willingly went into the gate. There was a jester there. Bells jingling merrily and he was so jaunty, his riddles so witty. But his eyes, they were stone, he seemed to be tired. Just as tired as I was. I went into his caravan and we drank and talked for hours. His story was even worse than mine. But when he had taken off his costume, I saw it! He was a hunchback. In spite of how smart he was, he knew so much and yet because of his defect...he could not be accepted. His family cast him out and this carnival took him in. I learned if I did this, I could be a clown. I could give folks a reason to laugh, to sneer or scream! I can control the sheep in my own way! No one thinks of a defect when you are in a freak show! It is family, it is acceptable to be exactly who and what you are."    

Shireen found herself in front of Tyrion's large mirror and make up desk. He was right behind her and he helped her sit in the stool. "If you could have that power like I did to those redneck bullies earlier?" Tyrion's voice was so soothing and compelling as he nearly whispered to her. "What would you look like? What would you want to be? A mime? A jester or a clown? Or perhaps your own thing, a creation all of your own that has simmered all this time within you. Finally to be able to not hide but shine and show yourself in your own way. No shame ever again. You own them, you own their laughter, their fear or anger. What would that witty, maybe terrifying powerful girl look like?"

So many colors, so many things, so many options and to have that power, to maybe even get revenge? What would it look like? What would it be? Shireen reached down and began to put her fingers into different make up pots. Then Shireen created a new face while Tyrion watched with a triumphant smile.


	16. Offer

Bran watched as Lancel suddenly appeared again, making Petyr wince with annoyance. "Wait! Before you start speaking, hear this!" Bran had been about to leave, hearing his sister yell in the distance. The boy seemed to speak differently now. He couldn't place it at first then he figured out it was old Europe in some way. Oh jeez, this was getting too strange and his anger was abating. He wanted to leave, he was getting the others the hell out of here. "Wait! Bran! He can make you walk again! Don't you ever want to walk? Petyr can do that! I swear it!"

He stopped and stared at Lancel with a stony face and watched as Petyr sighed and shook his head in disgust. "That has to be one of the cruelest things I think I have ever heard. Fuck you. I am out of here." Lancel seemed distressed and Petyr glared at the boy in anger as Bran rolled backwards to turn. Suddenly, Petyr leaped over the table and was in front of him.\

"The boy is an idiot but he is not lying." Before Bran could get any words out Petyr had his hands on Bran's knees. Bran cannot feel his legs but he FELT the heat, he FELT it and screamed, terrified and confused. Petyr said something fast and let go. "Stand up, try. It is no joke. I swear you can stand and walk." Petyr coaxed and Bran was stupid because he was falling for it. He grasped the arms of his chair and tried to raise to his feet.

And he did.

Bursting into tears, Bran slowly stood up then took very slow, careful steps. He felt his legs working and it was joyous. He began to laugh and experiment with kicking leaves. "Okay, that is enough. Bran, the magic ends in a moment, I would get to your chair." Bran stared at him and yelled, "NO! Please, I want to walk!" He fell to the frozen grass and sobbed into the ground.

With a sigh, Lancel put him back into the wheelchair. Petyr leaned towards Bran and asked, "Do you want that to stay permanent? If you truly wish to walk again, then you must decide. Are you a magician? Or an apprentice? It is a one time offer Bran. You need to pick soon." 

Frantically, Bran asked, "How do I know which one? I need to walk again, please! I will accept your offer, but how do I know what to choose?"

With a sharp smirk twisting his lips, Petyr put his arm around Lancel who was looking at Bran in a mix of anticipation and desperation. "Well, we can do a test. A magician's test and if you fail it, that makes you an apprentice. Someone who must work for and learn from the magician. In hopes of following in the footsteps of your mentor." Lancel looked sick at the end of the speech from Petyr.

Bran nodded and said, "Fine! Give me your test, hurry! Please, I must walk!"


	17. Fading

Varys got down next to Jojen. "You have a greenish cast to you. You look terrible, you can hardly breathe for the vomit that still chokes and sears your tender throat. Your head is pounding like a thousand drums in your skull. Do you feel your life slipping away? What a terrible feeling that must be. You can escape it you know. All you have to do is hear my story, Jojen. And you can live here, right in these gates forever or until another takes your place. Think boy...here is life for you..outside of the gate is instant death. I am clairvoyant and you know it. And you know I am telling you the truth. Don't you?"

Jojen gasped like a fish and tried to struggle into a sitting position. "Arya..the others..they need me." Varys just shook his head. "You are of no use or help to anyone else like this. If anything you would be a burden. Even if anyone does manage to evade their chosen paths tonight...they have to face the hunters. Do you think you could stand a chance against them? You can't even stand up! Gregor would just squash you like a bug on the ground. Listen to me, boy. This is your only way to survive, to live. Would you take a cup of tea and a story, Jojen? Or would you rather flop about like a fish and wait for death?"

Rolling his eyes, Jojen gasped out, "If I can barely breath...and can't walk...how..do you..expect me..to...go for tea?" Varys chuckled and said, "Ah! Like this!" He whispered something into a candle he lit and suddenly the light was so bright it hurt. Shielding his eyes, Jojen yelled, "What is happening?" "Magic. Look." Jojen lowered his hand as the fire dimmed and he was somewhere new. He was sitting in a chair back in Varys's tent holding a cup of tea. His breathing was better and so was his head. "Now, let me tell you a story, dear boy."


	18. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for torke159

Rickon stared at the eye. It was large, it was shining in fear and something like a terrible, gnawing hunger.

The voice inside the box was so sad, so weak and yet hopeful. And Rickon could hear the trembling fear in the broken man's voice.

He took a step forward, then another and put his hand onto the latch. A gasp of anticipation came from the box and then an unsettling sound, like bones rattling, like something scuttling and he shuddered, pausing.

Rickon started to work on the latch but it was old, rusted and he didn't know Ramsay made it hard to undo on purpose.

"I want to hear your story. I am having trouble with the latch. Start telling me your story while I work on this."  

He couldn't see the eye in the hole because Rickon was busy working on the latch. He didn't see the guilt, dread and wild hope bloom within its large crazed depths.

"Yes, I can do that. I can tell you everything..please, hurry, try and get the lid open, please?"

Rickon muttered, "I am trying to." He continued to fumble with the latch.

Another terrible frantic rustling sound and then the sad, broken voice began.

"I was from a different kind of place. My family lived close to the sea, we made our living from that sea. We would steal, plunder and attack ships, villages and what we wanted, we took."

Rickon got the first half of the latch loosened. "Like..pirates?" He asked and the voice gave a dry, croaking laugh. "Yes, exactly like pirates."


	19. Between

Meara heard whispering, words coming together in each ear. Kyra and Skinner both spoke to her, telling their stories since talent didn't seem to make a choice for them. Slowly but surely, the girl had achieved some of each of their skills, but only partial each so far. Also, she hears them both equally, responds to both equally, showing no favor for either person or talent. "Maybe if she hears our stories, she can pick better." Skinner suggested. So eager to be the one released in the morning, both spoke to Meara at once. It all blended together in her head as she played with a blade mindlessly.

"I was a bad person. I was a whore."

"I was worse! I was a torturer in a dungeon for a very bad man."

"I became a greedy girl and followed a very arrogant stupid warmonger who held a castle for a small time. He lost his name, the castle and his freedom for it. And I lost my freedom and almost lost my life too."

"I was falsely accused of stealing from my Lord and was cast out into a harsh winter to freeze to death. My Lord was a hated man who's holdings were far from others. If I lived long enough through the ice storms to find another holding, they never would have let me in. Not a former man of this Lord. I nearly died."

"They raped and tortured me for fun in the dungeons. I was finally rescued when I heard the sound of the traveling show. I could hear it from the little barred window in my cell. Then the prison guards were all so busy watching the show, they never saw me pick the lock again. I crept past them and hid inside a little wagon that was with the entertainers. That very night I gave myself a new body, a new name. I redeemed myself, Meara. I was never a victim again either. I am powerful here, no one dares ever misjudge me simply because I am female."

"I was nearly frozen, huddled in a tiny lean to I made out of sticks, ready to sleep forever. To give in to the sleep that would at least not be so cold and lonely. Then I heard it, the wheels of a wagon cracking over packed snow, jingling bells and music. Someone was singing a sweet song. Then the wagon stopped as I was trying to rouse myself to go look. By the time I could manage to sneak close enough to peek, there was a huge warm fire going. Then they let me come closer, they fed me, warmed me and I heard a story that I wanted as my own. I have never gone cold or hungry since. I have made friends, I have impressed all that see me. What more could you want?"

Strangely, Meara could easily understand both and somehow she saw the stories played out in her head. And yet remained fascinated with both.


	20. Transfer

Once her face was done to her perfection, Shireen turned to Tyrion. "Oh, that is perfect! It's terrifying and beautiful all at once! How did you do that? All the way on your neck, arms and, holy shit! You even checkered your hands black and white." Tyrion admired her look, coming close to examine it. "Now your costume, dear, it's essential to your character!" Shireen looked like a lovely art deco nightmare and her eyes looked like a brewing storm caught within a black and white prison.

With a small laugh, Shireen said in a somewhat dreamy voice, "Silly! Give me a drink, quick please? Thank you. Okay, what I mean is..no offense but...I don't think I can fit in your costumes." Snorting, Tyrion gave her an amused indignant look and opened a chest. "Well, young lady..do you think in our travels we see many stores for me? Of course not, I buy larger costumes then I sew and cut making my own outfits." Shireen took a last gulp of her drink and stood back up. She walked over a little unsteady, to start rummaging through the costumes and layers of cloth of every type. "Look through it until something seems to touch you back." He suggested, getting his own drink.

Shireen pawed through the cloth again and again. Then she paused and started to move her hands slower. It touched her twice. Black velvet and white satin were pulled forth. "I can sew, but not as good as you, I think." Shireen confessed but Tyrion just patted her hand. "We shall do it together, shall we?" Tyrion smiled widely but his eyes were wild with hope. He grabbed his sewing kits and the machine. Together they created a costume for the new face. When they were done, Shireen put it on and Tyrion stumbled back to his seat. Oh, it was wonderful! As soon as Shireen saw herself in the full length mirror, she was lost to her new identity.

Tyrion watched, fascinated as the girl created a character so believable, it brought this ages old clown to tears. Her face, neck, arms and hands were checkered black and white. Her costume was a tight bodysuit, it left her arms bare but covered every other inch of her. It had a tight black and white hood that completely covered her hair. The costume was a patchwork of black velvet and white satin.

Shireen was gone and this lovely but creepy new mime remained. She contorted and skittered, scaring the shit out of him. Then did impressions of comical situations that had Tyrion chuckling. Then the mime pretended to hang herself but the rope broke. Tyrion shook his head, laughing. She pretended to use a chainsaw. She had trouble starting it, the faces she made were hysterical. Then the chainsaw worked but she lost control of it, seeming to lunge towards Tyrion but ending up cutting off her own leg. "Oh gods, you are perfect." Breathed Tyrion.

When the girl finished her act, Tyrion was as enchanted as she was. He decided to take the plunge, he has never seen a person so ready to transfer before. So barely speaking he asked, "What is your stage name?" Without hesitation, while staring at her new self in the mirror, Shireen responded, "Patchface."


	21. Hunt

Arya moved fast, she moved silent and tried not to think too much.

The situation was insane and impossible. Just move, don't think, she told herself. It was only moments to find the large black tent that held the freak and possibly Rickon.

Seeing the great giant stomping around the tent had her now thinking, don't move, just think. She hid in the shadows, watching the huge man.

I am nowhere big enough, strong enough, so can I be quick and clever enough?

So she tiptoes...and he stomps...following behind him, staying in the darkness...until he spoke.

"Come on, girl, I saw you ten minutes ago. Get on with it, I am bored to fucking death."

Well shit.

"I need to get my brother inside that tent." Arya stepped slightly forward.

Gregor shrugged and said, "Not my problem. Reek deserves his chance as much as anyone else. Not fair to take that from him, girlie. Tell you what, let's play a game. What do you say? If you win, I'll let you into that tent. If you lose, well, I will have a very fun night then, won't I?"

Arya shivered as his horrible face leered at her. "You are fucking disgusting. Really. Its wrong. Yeah, I like games."

Gregor smiled.

"I am going to hunt you. You can go anywhere within our little hell bound home, except for this one tent.  I will let you have a five minute head start. If I cannot find and catch you within two hours, I'll personally hold the tent flap open for you. If I catch you, I am going to fuck you, break you into small pieces and then strangle you to death. If you are still alive after the fucking and torture that is. Most don't get that far...but you seem spunky and tough. I bet you'll last until nearly morning."

Arya grinned to hide her fear, though her disgust she let shine through. "Really? Okay then, catch me if you can, fucker!" She took off into the shadows and Gregor started to count.


	22. Abracadabra

Bran has never felt such a fierce need, has never had such a laser focus as he does now.

Petyr's voice is hissing and fast, his hands even faster. He showed Bran three common tricks, three easy tricks by his standards.

"Practice. I will give you some time but I cannot give you too long. We only have a few more hours for you to be able to walk, for your chance, the only one you'll ever have. So practice!"

And Bran did, over and over till it hurt his hands. Petyr and Lancel watched him carefully, they gave gentle tips on occasion. Clouds moved, far away a crow cawed and Bran practiced.

"It's time." Petyr's voice was soft but it cut painfully into Bran's concentration. "Are you ready? Three tricks. Begin."

Bran recalled every movement and every strange word that Petyr had said. With a flourish of hands and a clear intonation Bran produced a flame from each palm that then became a fiery sun in his hands. With a clap it was gone. Petyr clapped and cheered him onward. "Go on, boy, very well done! On to your second trick!" Lancel looked worried but Petyr looked thrilled.

Another intonation, another flourish, a certain amount of steps involved but Bran produced an ink black crow from his shirt pocket. "Excellent, excellent! One last trick, Bran!" Petyr urged and Bran began full of confidence.

His hands were graceful and perfect. The tone was correct and the magic began.

Bran's tongue slipped. It was the slightest of errors but the magic broke apart and so did Petyr's chance.

Lancel started to laugh and leap about then ran to hug Bran.

He pulled the boy from the wheelchair, grabbed his face and whispered, "Here are your legs, now I need something too. Your freedom."

Bran stood and didn't even care that the tight silver necklace on Lancel's neck appeared on his own neck. It burned a bit but Bran was too busy walking in small circles to care yet.


	23. Pirate

Reek was ever one for the rules and if he never defied Ramsay, he would certainly never defy the monster's own father. The devil incarnate himself, Reek could barely look at the man's boots and not shit himself in fear. He knew the rules and even though he wanted, needed, he would follow the rules. If he used his old rules by which he lived before, he would have leaped out and knocked the boy into the box, locking it. Then try to convince the boy before morning. But Reek was not like before and he followed rules.

Rickon helped the fragile creature out of the box and then gagged. "Oh god..you stink, man. Don't they let you bathe? Course not. They don't let you eat or live like a person...well, Reek is your name according to the box." His eyes reflected no malice towards this creature only curiosity and Reek didn't take offense to anyone but Ramsay anyway. He shrugged awkwardly and sat cross legged on the ground. Then stared longingly at the water bottle and snack Rickon was holding. "Thank you for letting me out. I will pay you back the only way I can...with my story..if you want to hear it?"

Grinning, Rickon nodded and offered the drink to Reek who sucked it down greedily. Then Rickon watched him cram the entire granola bar down his throat. "Wow. I wish I had more for you....want me to go to the food stands?" With pure terror in his heart, Reek pleaded, "No! That was just fine! Please, stay and hear my story, keep me company for a little while! It gets....lonely. Please?" Giving Reek a look of pity, Rickon nodded. "Ok. I would have come back though. So pirates, right? Tell me how a pirate becomes a freak."

Rickon sat with his elbows on his knees, face squished in the palms of his hands as Reek spoke. And as Reek spoke, strange things happened. r Reek's voice become an eerily similar but stronger voice. Then Rickon did not just HEAR the story....he saw the story.

He saw the ruthless pirates, he saw the brutality, the rawness of living on a sea that wishes to keep you. The great ships, the glorious battles, the gory deaths celebrated as bravery. The greatest of the pirates, his legacy was great and so were his brothers. Balon, one of the brothers was less bloodthirsty but obsessed with securing his legacy. He bred his wife to death. He trained his eldest sons and sent them off to find a bloody death, which indeed they did. Balon had a daughter who was more man than most and a better pirate than most. The Penny Dreadful stories circulating had been full of fantasy clashes between the great pirates, Anne Bonny and Asha Greyjoy.

Then there was Balon's last son. A handsome arrogant little boy who could never please his father. If this boy could not get his father's praise, he was lavished with his displeasure. Theon was his name and he was doomed. 

Rickon had tears on his face without knowing it. And he reached out to offer his hand in sympathy towards Reek. With a small pained smile, Reek took the smaller hand. He could, he could just yank the boy into the box...what if he lost his chance and Ramsay will be so mad...

No. Ramsay says the rules are the rules. Roose says always obey the rules.

"Let me continue..."


	24. Indecision

They were getting desperate, watching the sky for the slightest signs of light. 

Kyra smiled enticingly and softly whispered in her ear.

"You love my outfit, don't you? Would you like to try it on, I bet it just might fit. Do you want to see yourself in it?"

Skinner caressed the girl's cheek and smiled.

"You are slipping from your old boring self, you want the stage, don't you? Look how the blades just fit perfectly in your hands,girl. Here, try on my hat, I bet it will look even better on your head."

Meara tried on Kyra's outfit and it didn't feel right or look right at all. She tried on Skinner's hat and jacket and it looked better but still not right. It wasn't that Meara wasn't caught, the spell shined within her eyes. But something wasn't right and Krya and Skinner were near to panic. 

"This isn't right. It isn't how it goes. Get Roose. He will...his rules must have something about this!"

Kryra begged, yanking on Skinner's arm. With a tiny snarl, he shoved her away. 

"Fine! I'm going but you can't talk to her anymore until I get back..it must be fair!"

Nodding, Kyra sat at the edge of the stage.

"See? All fair. Now go!"

 

Roose looked down from his chair on the small podium they had built. It was an over sized throne that Tyrion would often sit in dressed as a king to amuse the customers into tips. Except now the garish silly throne looked dark, as if the red paint were really blood. And it seemed to the be the perfect size of Roose. Skinner bowed his head respectfully.

"Sir..we..are having a problem. The girl is drawn to both of us and nothing changes it. We have told our stories, we let her use our weapons, she did both acts perfectly. We do not know what to do, Sir."  

"How curious. It does seem this time is very different than usual. A few of the customers are different in some way. Very well, I shall help you. I will come see this for myself."

Roose watched as the spellbound girl performed as if she was Skinner. Then as if she were Kyra. Suddenly he gave a laugh. He understood now and gave a small smirk to Skinner and Kyra.

"Well, this certainly is a rare thing, a very rare special night. What a treat our great Lord has offered, such mercy. It makes me wonder what else is coming tonight. Utterly fascinating."

Kyra and Skinner stared at Roose and tentatively Kyra asked,

"Sir..what does this mean? What great treat or mercy has our Lord bestowed upon us?

With eyes that were glowing deeply within, orange flames that made all these children squirm and look down, Roose spoke. 

"She is not either of you. She is both of you. You are both leaving the gates in the morning."

Skinner and Krya took a moment before it sunk in. Then Kyra whooped and Skinner grabbed her and spun her.

Meara wasn't paying any attention, she was too busy going through their props and costumes.


	25. Small

She ran. Leaping over counters, climbing boxes and netting, running through a rusty tunnel under an small fun house that was in disrepair. Arya figured she would hear the giant having to tear and stumble his way through her strange maze, she stuck with areas that let her curl up and hide as well things that were very close quarters. _All I have to do is hide and then find another hiding spot, just evade him for two hours. They are going to be the longest two ours of my life._

Squirming through a bunch of old props near Petyr and Tyrion's areas, Arya was starting to believe this would work. Up ahead was a small glittery abandoned wooden crate she can rest in for a few minutes. Then there was a tsunami and she was rolling down a pile of fake velvet pillows while being whacked by sharp props. Through the fake shiny cheap props came Gregor and Arya cursed and struggled to get to her feet and run. She made it to her feet but she couldn't run with so many items in her path. Picking carefully wasn't an option either, not with the mountains bearing down on her.

Arya leaped onto the cabinet and then jumped onto a broken table and jumped. She was sailing for a clear path when suddenly a large hand wrapped all the way around her waist and yanked her backwards. Nearly gagging at the smell wafting from his armpit, Arya tried to kick him in the balls. He moved so she only hit into a rock hard thigh and he just chuckled.

"That was pathetic."

Bursting into frustrated scared tears, Arya slumped down.

"Fine. You win, but...just don't...don't do those things to me. Please, don't. I'm..I've never.."

She went silent and kept her face hidden in shame. Gregor grinned cruelly and lifted her up so he could put his face in hers. His hands were around her ribs now squeezing her breath away until she looked up at him. The fear and defeat in her eyes pleased him and he felt himself getting hard. This was going to be a good night after all.

"I'm going to do every single one of those terrible things to you...I won after all. It's only fair."

He growled out and she whimpered and looked down unable to hold his gaze. As he started to move back, two small hands flew up and dug out his eyeballs. Even the cracking of two ribs didn't stop Arya. She was screaming in disgust, in hate of both Gregor and herself but she dug the two jelly balls out his fucking skull. He dropped her to hold his face and she ran. 

With a dreadful roar, Gregor staggered towards the sounds of her running. Arya ran, dodging two trees, bursting out, seeing Ramsay and Damon, she ran back into the area she just ran from. Fuck! Will they join the hunt now too? While her mind was thinking of that, her body decided to leap over a boulder and came down wrong. The snap of her ankle was loud and her scream was louder. It brought the crashing, roaring blind Gregor who was too close for comfort now. She began to drag herself towards a small tunnel that looked like a children's play-tunnel set. Arya bit through her lip to keep quiet in spite of the pain.

Sweating, panting, she squirmed into the tube then saw it broke off into three other tubes. Hearing Gregor crashing next to the little play-set, she went still and tried to hold her breath. An arm burst into one of the tubes and managed to rip off Arya's shoe before she moved out of reach. Gregor began to try and destroy the tubes and managed to warp it enough that Arya was forced into the bottom tube again. She waited until he was on the other side of the playhouse tearing it apart before she crawled out. But her wounded, flopping ankle and foot dragged and he heard it. Lunging, Arya scrabbled back into the tube as he jumped right where she was. Those feet would have crushed her.

He reached into the tube and it was just long enough that Gregor couldn't reach her by a mere inch or two. He screamed and raged at her while trying to reach her until Arya was holding her ears shut. They were ringing from his enraged roars. Gregor finally ran out of steam and lay in front of the tube.

"I could just crush you in the tube. But even if I did it slow it wouldn't be enough. You are ruining my fucking night. And what the fuck do I do without eyes, you bitch! How can I be a blind Strongman, how do I serve this way?"

Arya had no answers for him and Gregor seemed to be thinking in a slow pondering way.

Then he gave a grin and Arya got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, since our hunt is over, we have time while we wait for the morning to come. Let me tell you a story."

 


	26. Spiders

Varys held tightly to the precious boy who was barely there anymore. His eyes were sunken and his breath was slowing. The whispers wove around him fast, so fast,trying to trap that last bit of fleeing soul. Jojen saw the words, the whispers as little spiders crawling around his mind, spinning a web to trap him, hold him, enchant, steal him.

"I came from a place and time you only saw through drawings and writings of those who weren't there. There is no important name to tell you, no particular setting that could settle in your head. Our real names, our real world was dust long before anyone could write words any archeologist could read. I was unremarkable. I was a young orphan with no parents living on the edge of the village. Raids happened. Wars. Poverty beyond what you could ever understand. I survived and when I was ten, my life ended. I was captured by raiders, I was castrated, I was collared, sold and my life was over. For years, I was raped, beaten at my Master's whim, for his wife's petty pleasures. Then one day horses came, a performance troupe! Oh, such amazing dark horses, eyes so red...and I was saved. I saw amazing sights as I followed my Master's servants on this rare day off. As the day ended, as it grew colder and time to leave, I was inconsolable, I wanted to stay. With all my heart, hairless, castrated and a freak, I felt like this was home. The visions I have always had that never helped me before, they could help me here and I knew it. There was an old man who I was so drawn to. He was like me only ever so much better. I heard his story and then I began to live again. Now, I need to give this sheltering home to another who needs it. I am ready to try the world again on my terms. And you need this magical shelter, this place to heal and become strong again. Then you can pass it on."

Jojen gave a shudder and went still. Varys sucked in a breath then tears began to pour down his face.

The boy stirred, he was caught in the web, at the very edge but he struggled then went limp. Varys held him crying and laughing as the boy turned a much healthier pink color in his restorative sleep.


	27. Box

Reek spoke and Rickon came closer.

Eyes wide, ears hungry for more words and the boy came closer still and Reek was feeling hopeful, such a strange emotion.

 

"I was a foolish brash boy and I wanted to prove myself to my father, my sister, my people who mocked me. I disobeyed the orders to raid small fishing villages and decided to lay siege to a keep instead. I won the keep but I couldn't hold it. The defiance from even the lowest stable boy to the young Lord that was left in charge of the keep. I hung several of them, including two children. I was going insane and an army had now formed outside the walls with way more men than I had. I should have stayed on the water as I had been told. So being the lowly coward I am, I ran, deserted my men to certain death and ran away. My father wouldn't allow me to return home, I was penniless, homeless and suicidal. I had found a small clearing in the woods and was about to cut my wrists. Then I heard the music..carnival, festival, mysterious music. I had to put my blade away and follow the sound. I found Ramsay and he was handsome, kind and clever. They all welcomed me in...no one thought I was shameful or a betrayer. Ramsay showed me the box and I opened it. There was a man in there, he was tattooed all over his body and very thin. His name was Heke. He told me his story and took my hand...just like this."

Reek extended his hand to the boy directly in front of him now. 

Rickon took Reek's hand and Reek squeezed the hand gratefully then softly asked,

"If you could, would you help me be free to start again? To try and redeem myself through good works in this word now?"

Rickon smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I want to help you out. What can I do to help, Reek?"

With a fast strength that surprised Reek himself, he pulled Rickon closer then threw him into the box and locked it.

  Staring at the desperate eye in the hole of the box, ignoring the boys' useless struggle to get out of the box.

"Forgive me, but someday you will have the same chance as me. I swear it. Thank you, I love you...I really do...thank you!" Reek burst into tears and his sobs seemed to be echoed by Rickon's cries. 


	28. Listen

Arya tried very hard not to listen. To ignore the words coming from Gregor's mouth.

She held her hands tightly over her ears, she started to sing loudly as well. The words seemed to find their way to her and Arya screamed louder than Gregor was speaking.

The words...words...words...don't listen, she chanted to herself.

Hear nothing.

Do not hear how when Gregor was a baby his parents were awful. He grew up with drunken beatings, learning to raise both himself and his brother.Once Gregor started to grow bigger he started to hit back.

His strength was a curse and a cure all at once. Gregor came home one day after ten hours of back breaking work at the nearby construction site.

He could hear his little brother screaming as he got closer to the dilapidated house they lived in.

Going inside at a run, Gregor saw his drunken father pressing his little brother's head down onto the glowing red burner on the stove. The smell of flesh melting was horrid and the screams were getting higher in their agony.

Gregor saw red and lost his mind. When he became aware of things again, his father was lying bleeding and broken on the floor. Gregor's little brother was lying nearby, going into shock from the hideous pain.\

That is what Mrs. Clegane saw when she came in a moment later. She was high on meth but was able to call the ambulance and police.

"I will tell them you tried to kill your father! And how could you do that to your own little brother?"

He could see in her eyes that his mother knew the damned truth but didn't care.

So he exploded in buried down bitter hurt and rage.

When he left the house just before the ambulance arrived. The only one in the house that was alive was a small boy with severe damage to his head and face.

The mother had suffered a broken neck and it was all gore where father's head used to be.

He did not know where to go, what to do. Gregor wandered, picking up jobs here and there. Mostly illegal. Then he saw a small fair and grinned. So many folks here to pickpocket, this will be a great day.

Except he discovered that he liked this show, these strange folks. He watched the freak show and then watched it again.

As he was preparing to leave, knowing that the police are probably still tracking him, a tall thin man came up to him. Gregor was invited to meet the show makers and for some reason, he felt a pull. 

Meeting them was feeling as if he were coming home and he didn't want to leave. 

The strong man of the show was Wun Wun, he was truly a damned giant. He shook Gregor's hand, offered a drink then proceed to tell Gregor about how many many decades back, he was from a race of real giants.

"And that is how they caught me...Wun Wun got to leave in the morning and I didn't. I love my work, I love those I work with. But maybe the world has something to offer me now. Think it's time to find out, don't you?"

Arya was tired, the words felt like weapons, every word was a chain binding her here.

"I don't want to give up my life to free you, sorry."

The tube didn't seem as dark anymore and Arya tried to see out of the tube, past the blind giant.

It was early morning. And the games are over. Arya began to cry in relief.

"The sun! It is morning, asshole and I won! You cannot touch me now..it is the rules!"


	29. Morning

The sun was pale, cold and distant but slowly creeping its way closer. Arya was laughing like a deranged woman while Gregor simply threw curses and stones he could reach at her.

A pale tall figure that the weak light seemed to shy away from, came forward and simply said, "Enough. It is over." Gregor thrust himself forward and reached out towards Roose's voice. "Not fair, it is not fair! Look what she did, Sir! I am blind, how am I going to work like this?"

Standing still, mere inches from the questing, pleading large hand, Roose smirked. "It was rather impressive to see how she beat you, Gregor. I don't think being blind will be that hard for you." Roose simply snapped his fingers and Damon was on his left. Ramsay was on his right. Both were grumpy as they hadn't a chance at all.

"The boys will help guide you to the fence. You know what the ritual is and you know what we look like. So picture it in your head." Roose watched as Ramsay and Damon struggled to get Gregor onto his feet. Then the giant kept trying to walk alone but he would pitch forward because no one told him a hole or a rock was there.

With an amused smirk, Roose leaned down to the tunnel. "It is over, dear. No one here will hurt you in any way, I can promise you that. This is just our ceremony of watching those who have won their freedom walk away. Then I speak to our new performers. Please come out now and I will personally walk you to the fence. My name is Roose Bolton and this is my freak show. They obey me and if I say it is over, no more violence, do you think they would defy me?"

Arya froze as Roose's soft voice had suddenly seemed to burn her. His eyes were so ice cold but so cold it felt hot it was like ice and lava all at once. "No, they would not defy you. I will come out." "Wonderful." Roose moved away and Arya's skin was goosebumps but the burning icy, burn was gone. Taking several shaky breaths, Arya climbed out and stood up keeping her eyes on Roose.

He stood still with his hands behind his back, face impassive. Arya walked over and put her own hands behind her back. She did not want him to touch her in anyway. Roose smirked at the girl's lame attempt to avoid his painful touch. Together they walked towards the fence. The others were already there. All at once, terrible emotions attacked her. Thrilled to see that fucking fence, cannot wait to stand on the other side and give them all the finger.

Then she looked around at the others, really looked and started to hyperventilate. "No..no..please."

Jojen was still pale but he was standing tall and steady. The constant strained look of pain was gone and his face was handsome in it's relaxed state. He looked different his hair was gelled and wild. There was an earring of a skull in his ear. A silk black t shirt with a green blazer, unbuttoned and skinny jeans that normally he would have scoffed at. 

Roose leaned a little closer to Arya and commented, "They are allowed to pick their own costumes for their acts. I do not interfere in the creation of the artists as long as it is something that brings us customers."

Arya panted and groaned at the sight of Shireen. It took her a moment to realize the terrifying mime was actually her friend. Meara was stunning and spinning blades in her hands like she was born for it. When Arya saw Bran walking towards her she started to cry. Sobs ripped from her as Arya ran over to hug him.

Bran hugged her back and whispered, "Don't worry. It is fine..this will be fine for us. I can walk here...I need this, sis. I love you but I have to stay here." Arya nodded and together they turned to the fence just like the others did. Almost as if they heard a command to do so.

"Those who have served their time with us and have received the great gift, you are free. You are no longer immortal, you no longer will have these talents. You will be one of them,  one of those sheep. Remember to be wolves, but if something goes wrong...well, you can always hope that I come by your area." Roose gave a chuckle that crawled across everyone's skin and left slime that no one could see. 

"You may open the gate and leave. May your lives give you joy." Roose extended his hand towards the gate.

Clearing his throat, Tyrion came forward. He was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He hesitated only a second before touching the gate and opening it slowly. Then he took a deep breath and stepped out of the gate. He gave a wild cry, a howl and then started to cry. Tears of joy, of possibilities, of so many things. Tyrion beckoned towards the others moving closer. "It is safe, come on."

Skinner and Kyra were dressed in jeans and t shirts, sneakers, they clung to each other then ran through it. They started to laugh and Skinner swung Kyra around in a delirium of happiness.

Varys wore a black suit and shiny pointed shoes. He looked rich and acted it as he seemed to almost glide out the gate opening. Like the others the feelings hit and Varys felt the magic all rush away for him. He stumbled and they all helped him back to his feet. They all started to laugh and hug each other.

Lancel stormed forward past Petyr, nearly shoving him and flew out. He had shaved his head and he was wearing a plain black jogging suit. He shuddered as he made it through and allowed the others to steady him.

"I believe we aren't done yet." Roose said and he watched his son with amusement as Theon slowly walked forward. The boy was wearing ripped tight jeans and a tight t-shirt. His hair was cut and styled. "You look like a fucking whore. You won your freedom to become a prostitute!" Ramsay growled, fists aching to grab his Reek.

Theon looked nervously at Ramsay and muttered, "I'm sorry, Master. But I did follow all the rules. I don't know what I'm going to do yet. I won't be a whore though, I know that much."

With a sudden burst of speed Theon ran out the gate and crashed into the others. "We have one left, don't we?" Roose commented mildly. Arya grinned and went forward fast. She crashed into something she couldn't see but it singed her skin. "What..why?" She stared at Roose.

Roose picked a piece of lint off his left sleeve. "Well, you did hear Gregor's story and you did manage to defeat him. So...Gregor is done here." Gregor whooped and started to stagger forward. 

Gregor walked forward with his arms out feeling his way out of the gate. Then screamed in pure triumph. Once he turned they could all see his eyes were back and functioning.

"Good luck to you all. Thank you for your loyalty and service. You are released from your contracts. Goodbye." Roose gave the words with a feeling that a snake was crawling across their bodies. But the ones outside did not feel it at all.

Arya knelt at the safer part of the fence and cried. She saw a familiar van show up and a smiling Gendry jumped out of it. He shook the hands and hugged all those that were free. They all piled into the van.

Arya leaned her forehead against the cheap wood and watched until the dust from their departure settled. Roose put one icy hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. You will be too busy to worry about that gate. You may not be a strong man but you have other talents. You will run all our security. There will be other things but sometimes it takes time for you to see what magic has taken you."

With a heavy head and chest, Arya stood up and numbly followed the others towards their forever freak show home.

**Author's Note:**

> Musical Inspirations:  
> The Last Temptation album by Alice Cooper  
> Coming Undone, Freak On A Leash by Korn  
> Cry Little Sister, People Are Strange, by Lost Boys Soundtrack  
> Cryin' Like A Bitch, I Fucking Hate You, Voodoo, I Stand Alone, Keep Away From Me, by Godsmack


End file.
